


Miles And Miles

by ProfessorFlimflam



Category: Holby City
Genre: Berena Final Countdown, F/F, Marathon Running, countdown: distance, marathon training, marathon widow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22290859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorFlimflam/pseuds/ProfessorFlimflam
Summary: After all they had been through, the struggles they had overcome to be together, Serena was a widow. Not the traditional kind, admittedly, but for all she saw of Bernie while she was training for her marathon, she might as well be. It takes an old friend to convince her that there might be some advantages to the situation.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67
Collections: The Final Countdown





	Miles And Miles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fortytworedvines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortytworedvines/gifts).



> Sweet Jesus, never ask your wife for her experiences of being a marathon widow. You won’t like the answers :-|
> 
> For Fortytworedvines - thanks for the idea!

After all they had been through, the struggles they had overcome to be together, Serena was a widow. People had warned her of the risk of marrying someone like Bernie, someone who couldn’t stay still, who had to be constantly on the move. She hadn’t listened to them, because she knew something that they didn’t, which was that she would be _enough_ for Bernie. There would be no more secondments to far flung places, no more re-enlisting, no more running.

But she had been wrong.

Bernie did nothing _but_ run, and now Serena was a marathon widow - not as devastating as the conventional kind of widowhood, true, but she felt aggrieved at how much time Bernie spent pounding the pavement instead of pounding... well, she was put out, anyway. Bernie would leave the house while it was still dark, and return hours later, only to spend almost as long refuelling, stretching, showering and doing whatever it was she did with that barbaric looking foam roller thing. By the time she was fit for human company, there was little of the day left to do anything together, and Serena found that she was running the house singlehanded, for Bernie had little energy left for household chores (not that they were her strong point to begin with).

Bernie had taken to running home from work, too, trying to incorporate her training into her ordinary day. While Serena understood that it meant Bernie wasn’t having to go out again after she got in, it moved their dinner time later and later, and after yet another glass of shiraz alone waiting for her partner to get back, she called Siân almost in tears of frustration.

“I never see her, she barely does anything around the house, I can’t remember the last time we did anything together and all she talks about now is hills and intervals and fartlek, whatever that is! It’s a foreign language, honestly!”

Siân was sympathetic - up to a point.

“Poor you, having the house all to yourself, watching whatever you like on telly, knocking back more wine than she’d approve of. And what’s her response to all these complaints, hmm?”

Serena was affronted. “Well, obviously I’m not going to try and stop her achieving her goal, am I? It’s something she’s always wanted to do, and I won’t stand in her way, not if it’s something she really, really wants.”

“You don’t have to stop her achieving it, but it might help if you actually talked to her about some of the things that you’re finding difficult, don’t you think? Why don’t you suggest she moves her long days to times when you’re on shift and she’s not? That would give you more time together, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, there’s some training plan she’s following slavishly, I don’t want to disrupt it,” Serena said, but there was a little note of thoughtfulness in her voice.

“Nonsense!” Siân said briskly. “There’s bound to be an element of flexibility in it - and you have always bragged about Bernie’s flexibility,” she added, the smirk audible over the phone.

“Well, I could suggest it, I suppose.”

“And the housework thing - just give in and get a cleaner already! Free up some time and boost the local economy, that’s what I say. It’s not as though you can’t spare a bob or two between you. And it sounds as though she’s making a sensible compromise with the running home from work thing - if she needs to fit the runs in, at least she’s just extending her commenting time instead of trolling off to the gym as soon as she gets in.”

Serena sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Am I being awful?”

“Not a bit of it - but maybe it would help to identify some benefits of the whole thing rather than just looking at the irritating bits. What are the upsides?”

“Hmm... well, I suppose she gets some of that Wolfe-ish restlessness out of her system, stops her disappearing off to save the world every five minutes.” 

“Well, that’s a huge plus, isn’t it? What else?”

Serena thought about it. “You know, Bernie’s always been quite fit, but now she’s _really_ fit - and yes, pun intended. She’s always been slim, but now she’s all lean and toned and muscled...”

“Darling, careful drooling not your phone, you’ll short-circuit the thing. I get the picture - though an actual picture wouldn’t go amiss... no, no, fair enough - stop skwawking at me! Can’t balance a girl for trying. Come on, one more advantage and you break even. She’s out all the time - but she’s _here_. She doesn’t help around the house, but she’s fit as a Stradivarius. Anything too offset the tedious running jargon?”

Serena though about the days in between Bernie’s training sessions, her rest days.

“Come to think of it,” she drawled, “Her stamina’s gone through the roof...”

Siân laughed, and Serena, feeling greatly cheered, rang off, just as Bernie came through the door, dripping with sweat, her legs covered in dirt kicked up from puddles.

“There you are, darling. Why don’t I come and help you shower, hmm? I think I’m starting to see the benefit of this marathon lark.”

Bernie’s eyes lit up.

“Well, every athlete needs a good support team. Fancy the post of masseuse?”

The race to the shower was the only one Serena was ever likely to win against Bernie, and that night, she made the most of her winnings.


End file.
